


Through The Eyes Of An Eagle

by the-eagle-of-masyaf (Dunkelherz)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Apple Shenanigans, Apple of Eden, Blind Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Attraction, Physical Disability, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunkelherz/pseuds/the-eagle-of-masyaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Altair shows up at the Jerusalem's bureau, Malik notices there is something very odd and wrong about the Assassin's behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I totaly forgot I've started writing this fill for the kink meme. Must be ages ago.

The bells had been going off for most of the day and only when it was late in the evening did they stop – it was either a sign that the guards had found the infidel or they simply had stopped looking.

 

Malik couldn't care less. There wasn't an Assassin within Jerusalem's walls he knew about nor did he expect one. It probably was just a thief the guards had been chasing all day, no more no less. Although that would be highly uncommon – why bother with a thief when there were more important matters? But it wasn't Malik's business and he refused to give it another thought.

 

When he stepped back into the cool shadows of the bureau, the sun riding low on horizon's edge there was a candle flickering on the shelter's top with a novice sitting on one of the many cushions decorating the floor. He'd been there for a couple of days now, waiting for his master's instructions and he'd been kept busy by running some errands for Malik. He looked up when the Dai entered, his lips pressed to a thin line and with concern written all over his face. He scrambled up to his feet, bowing his head in a silent gesture of respect. “Master Dai”, he greeted Malik, closing the small distance between them. “He's in the back.”

 

Malik crooked one elegant eyebrow in a questioning look, setting aside the pots of ink he had purchased from the market earlier that day. “Who is?”

 

“The Grandmaster.”

 

And with a gasp of air Malik passed the young boy and rushing to the bureau's back room, pushing the rugs aside which served as a made-shift curtain to separate the two rooms.

 

And there he was.

 

Altair lay in the middle of a sea of pillows, his chest bare and pants riding low his waist. Blood was trickling down his ribs from a minor cut - itt was nothing one should be concerned about.

 

“ _Novice_ ”, Malik's voice cut through the silence. “What foolish act did you try this time?” Jamal, who stood in the doorway jumped at Malik's voice, his mouth already open for a reply before he noticed Malik had addressed Altair.

 

There wasn't much light inside the room as the last rays of the sun were falling through the open window, wrapping Altair's body in a soft golden glow. His eyes flickered open and if anything Malik thought those sapphire orbs were just a little brighter today. The Assassin stared at the Dai, his glance burning intensely. Half a smile tugged at the corner of his lips and it looked as if he was sinking back further into the cushions. “Just the impossible act of escaping a horde of dense guards while making my way to the bureau unharmed.”

 

“You're bleeding”, Malik stated the obvious and Altair's hand slid down over his chest until his fingers were damp with blood. The smile upon his face quivered.

 

“Mostly unharmed then”, he added and his voice sounded strained and mechanic.

 

Malik sighed and wiped his face, turning his head. “Jamal”, he called the boy and the young novice slipped further into the room. “Get some bandages. I wasn't expecting a novice causing trouble, I don't have any medical supplies at stock.” Malik rubbed the bridge of his nose as he was developing a slight headache. Out from the corner of his eyes he saw Jamal nodding.

 

“Of course Dai”, he simply said and the curtain fell shut again and only seconds later Malik could hear feet scrubbing against the court's wall as the boy climbed upwards to make his way towards the market. He turned his gaze back to Altair after he was sure they were alone. “You're not supposed to be here”, he told him, crossing his arm in front of his chest. It looked a bit awkward since he only had one.

 

Altair closed his eyes, sighing and for a second Malik thought he saw a flash of pain flickering across his face – but he could be mistaken and wiped the thought away before it could fully develop. He closed the distance and crouched down next to Altair. “Why did you leave Masyaf?”

 

Altair smirked. “Maybe I missed you.”

 

Malik lifted his hand and placed his palm flat on Altair's chest. The man startled but quickly recovered when Malik's hand slid down his body. “Do I have to strip you or can I believe your words that this is the only wound?” He gestured for the small cut on Altair's ribcage. He saw his adam's apple bopping when Altair swallowed thickly and he barely nodded and his head snapped upwards when he heard the rustling of Malik's robes as the Dai got on his feet. “Why did you send Jamal away? This wound hardly needs any treatment. I can't even feel it.” Again Altair's fingers slowly crept over his body, touching and searching.

 

Malik wrinkled his brow at that.

 

Altair's movements were odd, clumsy really and he hadn't looked Malik in the eyes, not once. He watched the other man thoroughly and slowly took two step backwards before he stopped within his tracks. He had made sure not to make a sound as Altair's eyes were still focusing on the spot Malik had stood seconds ago. He wasn't now and reality hit him full force. “Altair”, he softly said and the man's head turned towards his voice, his brows perking upwards. Malik noticed how Altair's hands were clenched into tight fists, slightly shaking.

 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” But Malik just stood there, his arm hanging loosely to the side of his body.

 

“Three”, came Altair's reply.

 

He'd just gotten his proof and he sighed deeply, wishing he'd been wrong. “Altair...”, he whispered his name softly. “You're blind.”If anything Altair was showing the emotions of a rock, but he couldn't fool Malik. “How did you manage finding the bureau?”

 

Altair bit down onto his bottom lip. “I remembered the way”, he forced out between tight lips.

 

For a moment neither of them said anything. Finally, Malik couldn't stand it any longer, “How?”

 

“Nothing for you to concern about. I dealt with the one... doing this.” Altair waved his hand in front of his face.

 

“Stupid idiot”, Malik growled and took Altair's hand, forcing his wrist down against the ground. He hovered slightly above him, their breaths washing over each other's face. “I need to know – is it permanent?” Malik knew for Altair to tell him how it had happened meant to admit his failure – and Altair sure hated to do that. It'd just demonstrate that he was no god but nothing but a mere man, able to bleed and die as everybody else.

 

“It just happened.”

 

Malik sighed and leaned back on his heels. There was no way to get Altair to talking. With a small gesture of his hand, his fingers moved over Altair's jaw and Altair jumped at the sudden touch when Malik turned his head to one side and then the other. Next he pressed his fingers to Altair's neck, pushing his head down and now was finally able to feel it as he touched along his scalp. There it was. A slight bump hidden underneath his hair.

 

“You got hit to the head.”

 

“Yes. I was out for a few seconds.”

 

“And?”

 

“Couldn't see when I came back.”

 

Malik clicked his tongue. “So maybe that's our answer.”

 

“Answer to what?”

 

He leaned his head to one side, feeling the lump and pressing lightly against it. “The answer to why you're blind. You're going to stay here for a few days. Let's hope it's not permanent.” Altair scoffed but Malik could easily tell how worried he was and how hard he tried to not let it show.

 

“So what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at Masyaf now that you're Grandmaster?”

 

“I never asked for this title and you know it”, Altair grumbled sourly, his head hanging low between his shoulders now that he didn't have the strength to hold it up any longer.

 

“And yet you have it now”, Malik sighed and stood up, pulling the curtain aside to peek through the small gap. Jamal wasn't back yet. “We can't always have what we want, can we?”, Malik sighed and oh, that was probably more true than anything else and he glanced at Altair. “Tell me. Why did you leave Masyaf?”, he tried it again.

 

“I've already told you. I missed you”, and Malik laughed, sharp and hollow. So he wouldn't get an answer tonight, alright.

 

“Fine, then don't tell me”, he said and heard a soft thud coming from the other side of the curtain. Jamal was back. “Stay the night brother and I assure you, you'll be greeted by the sun tomorrow morning and return to Masyaf safe.” While he saw Altair nodding from the corner of his eye, the words tasted bitter on Malik's tongue and he could only hope that he didn't bite more off than he could chew with them.

 

If Altair would be able to see again was a question no one knew to answer to. Not at this moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't find the prompt for this on the kink meme anymore and I really would want to post it there because I made a promise to an anon to fill it and I feel real bad for not finding it anymore :(

It didn't get better the next day. And it didn't get better the day after that and when a week had passed with no change of Altair's condition Malik truly begun to worry. Jamal was already gone, three days ago a pigeon had come with his new assignment and he had departed early the next day leaving Malik and Altair behind alone. Altair had tried his best to not let Jamal see that he was blind and Malik had made sure to keep Jamal as far as possible from Altair – if somebody would learn for the Grandmaster of the Assassin's to be blind the outcome of it would be catastrophic.

 

That was exactly Malik's problem at the moment. Altair was vulnerable like this although Malik was still was more than just impressed for Altair finding his way back into the bureau without getting lost. But if Altair's enemies would learn about his condition they would come like rats at night, trying to get a piece of his power – and even a man like Altair wouldn't be able to fight them all off.

 

“When did you say would you return?”, Malik muttered as he was drawing a line for one of his current commissions while Altair sat on one of the large cushions on the floor, head cocked to one side as he listened to the city's noises outside.

 

“I didn't set a date”, Altair sighed and it relieved Malik a little. Good – at least now they didn't have to worry about how Altair would make his way back to Masyaf in time while still being blind.

 

“You can't stay and hide here forever”, Malik concluded and blew softly across the paper in front of him so the ink could dry.

 

“I didn't come here to hide. I needed sanctuary.”

 

“I meant why you originally came here”, Malik said in an amused little voice. “You want to hide from your duties as Grandmaster”, he said and looked at Altair.

 

“I know and I say it again, I didn't came here to hide.” He only sounded a little annoyed and Malik had to admit, he'd been surprised more than one time the last couple of days how Altair was able to not lose himself in a sea of desperation. Malik dared to say he of all people knew what Altair was currently going through even though he didn't show it – Malik of all people knew how it was to lose a part of your body and while your sight was rather a part of your senses that didn't mean it wasn't the same compared to losing a limp. He thought it was pretty much the same and after the surgeons had taken off his arm, Malik had found himself more than one time considering to just jump off Masyaf's cliff to end his misery. A swordsman with no sword hand – what life was that?

 

But Altair... Altair almost didn't seem to mind at all and Malik didn't know if that should scare him or not.

 

“How are your eyes today?”, he asked eventually and put the quill carefully down, trying not to ruin the new map with ink stains.

 

“Nothing, I keep telling you. It's black just black.” One would think Altair sounded frustrated or edgy but the words spilled from his lips underneath a heavy sigh as if it was something he thought was annoying but not... life changing.

 

“I need to go out today”, Malik announced and walked around the counter, leaning with his hips against it while he grabbed his left shoulder with his right hand – his way of crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Since Jamal isn't here anymore I don't have a boy I could send to do my errands. If there's anything need you should tell me now and I get it for you.”

 

“Why should I tell you? I come with you of course”, Altair snorted and leaned a little back in cushion and Malik thought he looked way too smug for someone who'd lost his eyesight.

 

“And then what, you hold my hand I lead you through the city? I don't think so Altair”, he said and shook his head.

 

“No, it's going to be your voice leading me”, Altair told him and slowly stood.

 

“My voice?”, Malik asked again and saw how Altair took a few steps forwards and into Malik's direction.

 

“Say something”, Altair urged him.

 

Malik thought he looked strange without wearing his hood, without his eyes hidden in shadows, without his gaze burning into Malik's. Instead it was empty, his eyes searching something they couldn't see, moving restless and with no destination.

 

“I'm here”, Malik called softly and leaned further against the counter, sitting half on top of it. He watched how Altair came closer, his steps even and steady. Only people who knew Altair very well, like Malik, would see that something was off when he moved, that he was hesitating just a second too long before he would made his next move. “You're almost here”, he said again and Altair was now almost in front of him – only one more step and their chests would touch and it was exactly what Altair did. He lost his balance for a split second but caught himself quickly while Malik reached for his arm, his fingers curling around Altair's bicep. “Careful there brother”, he said.

 

“I've thought you're at least two steps further away”, Altair explained almost sheepishly, their bodies so close he could hear Malik's deep and even breaths, could almost feel the air moving around him.

 

“No I'm right here”, Malik whispered. “So you're certain this is going to work? You'll just follow my voice like a good little lap dog?”

 

“Is this how you talk to your Master?”, Altair asked, head leaned to one side with his hand coming up, searching for Malik and he found his hip and it made Malik feel awkward but he couldn't bring it over his heart to tell Altair to remove his fingers.

 

“As long as my Master takes me for an idiot and doesn't tell me the reason to why he's here or how he got this injury, yes, this is exactly how I will speak with him”, Malik told him in a calm voice and felt how Altair squeezed his hip.

 

“I've already told you”, he smirked a little and Malik sighed, taking a step to his side to free himself from Altair's grip.

 

“Novice”, he muttered underneath his breath, “you're such a novice still.” He heard Altair softly chuckling behind him. “This isn't funny Altair – I thought you'd trust me but here I am asking you a simple question which you refuse me to answer.”

 

“Do you think I would have sought shelter with somebody I didn't trust?”, Altair pondered and slowly turned around, hand reaching for the counter and holding onto it.

 

“I wouldn't know would I?”

 

“Malik...”

 

“Altair.”

 

“Enough already. I trust you and you know it.”

 

The worst part probably was that Malik knew it was true. Yeah he trusted Altair and yeah he knew Altair trusted him – of course he did and he was just being an idiot. It irritated him that Altair was behaving like he was behaving while it seemed as if Malik was more worried than him. It irritated him and it made him frustrated and he was looking for a way to vent. In the past, his way to vent had been Altair – a good fight in the training ring had always helped him and Altair was one of the few who didn't held back but fought Malik with everything they got. This wouldn't be working now and it frustrated Malik even more so in the end, all he could really do was to take a deep calming breath.

 

“Alright”, he nodded and turned back to Altair. He startled when Malik reached for him and put his hand on his shoulder, it made Malik smirk with satisfaction. “Let's see how it works. ”


	3. Chapter 3

“I still need some mint”, Malik hummed as they made their way through Jerusalem's streets and since it was late in the day, it wasn't as crowded as it usually was. That wasn't to their advance though – it was _always_ crowded in Jerusalem and there really were only two categories describing the subject: crowded and not so much crowded which was currently the state.

 

“Mint”, Altair muttered in return. He was staying close by, his little finger brushing against Malik's hand every now and then – it was the only indication Malik had of Altair that the man didn't feel at ease, was rather being uncertain. They needed to stay close so Altair was able to hear Malik's voice while Malik tried to guide Altair through the crowd an streets without having him bump into somebody. This was not an easy task, especially not if most citizens didn't want to get out of your way but expected you to take a step aside to let them pass. Which Altair currently wasn't able to do.

 

“I could be already done if I didn't have to drag you along”, Malik muttered and he knew he was being unfair but this was Altair he was talking to – he knew Altair wouldn't expect Malik to hold his hand, to pat his head and tell him everything was going to be alright. That would be rather... unusual. Malik wasn't a man who was able to show big emotions, none of them were. Not assassins. Born and raised to protect the innocent, to deliver justice to those who deserved it – that was their purpose, they knew how to take lives but they didn't know how to take care of one.

 

“I don't think it's my fault, you're just slow. The years in Jerusalem didn't do you any good did they? Got a little lazy Malik?”, Altair smirked and damn him for being so smug for a man in his condition.

 

Malik scoffed and rolled his eyes. He knew Altair wasn't serious, couldn't be serious. Jerusalem was one of the most dangerous cities and there'd been only one reason for Al Mualim to sent Malik as a rafiq all these years ago to the city. He wanted him dead, simple as that and he'd hoped a place like Jerusalem would kill a cripple like Malik sooner or later. But Malik didn't die and in the end had outlived Al Mualim. Now he'd been back for barely a year and nothing much had changed, not in Jerusalem, the only thing different that he got his orders from Altair now. The Order stood at the brink of a new dawn and even though Malik had stayed by Altair's side for more than a year to help the Brotherhood rise from the chaos created by Al Mualim's betrayal, there was still much to do.

 

“Not really, no”, Malik said eventually and startled when he felt Altair's fingers creeping over his stomach before his hand fell back to Malik's side. “What are you doing?”

 

“You seem a little fat”, Altair said nonchalantly.

 

He snorted. “You seem a little delusional.

 

“Maybe...”, Altair hummed and Malik pushed a little against his shoulder to tell him silently to go further to his right so they could avoid a man with his goats – although Altair would deserve bumping into him.

 

“You should behave Altair, all I really need to do is seal my mouth shut and you'd be lost”, Malik told him quietly.

 

“You're talking to the man who escaped Templar soldiers and found the entrance to your bureau while he was blind all the time. I wouldn't be lost.”

 

“How is it you're in such a good mood after losing your eyesight?”, Malik finally asked as the question had been gnawing at his insides for far too long now and he wasn't able to hold it back any longer. He could see from the corner of his eye how Altair bowed his head a little, leaning it to one side.

 

“We all pay the price for our sins sooner or later”, he murmured eventually, the words almost too soft for Malik to understand but he caught them and he turned towards Altair, eyebrows arched with surprise.

 

“Is this about-”

 

But it was this tiny moment where Malik hadn't been watching, too distracted by Altair's words as they had catapulted him years into the past and shit, he hadn't been prepared for this. It was this tiny moment which was enough for a guard to take a step back and bump into Altair which brought them to a sudden halt.

 

“My apologies”, Altair muttered quietly and he was about to continue his way by taking one step to his left but a palm pressed to his chest stopped him. A few years ago, he would have said nothing. A few years ago Altair would have waited for the guard to step aside, would have tried to provoke the man until he'd draw his sword and Altair's blade would pierce his skin. But not today, not anymore – and especially not with his current condition.

 

But this guard wasn't as smart as Altair was. “Really, I don't think there's any need for this friend”, Malik said as he saw the guard's hand twitching and hovering above the hilt of his sword before he drew it and Malik took one step back while Altair kept his ground, eyes lowered, head slightly turned aside.

 

The guard focused on Malik. “I really don't think we're friends-”

 

And it really was all Altair needed, the man's voice enough for him to knew vaguely where his throat and head was – he made his move and Malik could have throttled him for that right then and there. His hand shoot upwards, the hidden blade coming to live as it cut through the man's throat, it was too fast as if he could scream, eyes wide and lips falling open but no sound escaped his mouth. “I bet you're wishing now we were friends”, Altair murmured softly and pulled his hand back, his fingers covered in warm blood. There it was again, a beast Malik hadn't seen for a very long time now, blood thirsty and cruel, a beast clearly showing in Altair's empty look now.

 

The man slumped down, his knees giving away underneath the heavy weight of his dead body and for a moment it seemed as if the heat had gotten to him, that he'd only lost consciousness and nothing more. Malik looked up, if there was one guard the others usually weren't far away and he was right about it this time as well, the man's friends just standing a few meters away, distracted by a young woman balancing a water jug on her head. “We need to go. Now”, Malik hissed at Altair, praying that the people around them wouldn't notice the thick dark blood on the ground for a little while longer. “That was un-”

 

“We both now it was”, Altair whispered back at him, “I can hear at least three more guards talking just a few meters ahead of us. If we go now and they don't notice us, we're out of trouble.”

 

“Then let's pray your little stupid plan works”, Malik muttered and wrapped his fingers around Altair's, pulling him sharply aside to vanish in a group of men pulling little hay cars behind them. “All I wanted was to get some mint, not you sticking your blade into the next best guard.”

 

“He left me no choice and you know it”, Altair told him quietly, his fingers clutching Malik's tightly as if he was afraid to get lost in the crowed without him.

 

The worst part was Malik knew Altair was right. Altair was in no condition to fight and with the brutal heat lingering in the city for the last couple days now the guards were in such a foul mood that they didn't need a reason to cut the throats of innocent citizens. An argument wouldn't have helped them at all to calm the man down, it just would have drawn more attention to them and in the end, they would have probably needed to fight their way out of there. A quick death without drawing much attention had been the best option.

 

“I'm sorry about your mint”, Altair added with a light smirk pulling at the corners of his lips and Malik rolled his eyes, pulling Altair along with him into an alley. When they reached the shadows created by high walls and with no curious eyes watching them, Malik let go of Altair's hand eventually.

 

“This can't go on forever”, Malik told him and run his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. “We need to get you back to Masyaf where the healers can look at your condition. I can't keep on babysitting you like this”, he added with a dark growl although he only meant it halfheartedly – Altair's blindness concerned him more than he'd like to admit.

 

“I've already told you I don't need a babysitter”, Altair told him, the shadow of his former self shining through again, showing a long lost arrogance.

 

Malik looked at him with arched eyebrows and regret it for a second Altair wasn't able to witness his stare. “And I'm the King of England”, he scoffed and put his hand on his hip, eying Altair skeptical. “So why don't you go back then to Masyaf, mh?”, he teased him and the way how Altair pursed his lips told him that they both knew Malik was right. “I will go with you”, he sighed eventually.

 

“There's no need for me to return to Masyaf”, Altair murmured softly and his fingers searched for Malik again but he stood out of his reach.

 

“Alright, I get it now. We're going in circles here.” Malik looked sternly at Altair and again he wished the effect wouldn't be lost on him due to his bad eyesight. “Something happened you won't tell me.”

 

“No I won't tell you”, Altair sighed, sounding almost defeated and he searched for the nearby wall and when his fingers met the cool stone, he leaned heavily against it. “I will tell you, but not today.”

 

“Not today, I see”, Malik muttered and rubbed his chin. “We need to get back to the bureau then, I can't leave just like that. I'm going to send a letter to Masyaf to let them know we're coming and that the Jerusalem bureau is abandoned.”

 

“No.” Altair's head snapped up and his eyes stared vaguely at the direction Malik was standing. “We're not going back to Masyaf.”

 

“Why not? We have the best doctors there, you're blind for fuck's sake Altair!” Malik's breathing was a bit heavy and his cheeks painted red with unleashed rage.

 

“I have the feeling it bothers you more than it bothers me”, Altair told him, his voice quiet and still calm.

 

“For once I think we both agree on that. So where were you heading for? I'm starting to think Jerusalem wasn't your destination but it rather was the next best city where you could seek shelter.”

 

Again, Altair pursed his lips and Malik threw his arm up in the air. “Fine, don't tell me but then I'm going to take you to Masyaf with me.”

 

“You won't let this go, will you?”

 

Malik shook his head, but then realized Altair couldn't see the movement. “No, I won't let it go.”

 

“Alright. If you leave me no choice then I will tell you. But not here.”

 

“That's a problem easily solved”, Malik scoffed and took Altair's hand once more, the hold itself softer now and he knew there really was no reason for him to take Altair's hand this time and he just hoped Altair wouldn't realize that. “You said you needed sanctuary so I will take you there.”  


	4. Chapter 4

 “I've thought when you said sanctuary you were talking about the bureau. I wouldn't have expected something like... this. A church, really Malik?”

 

“How can you even say this is a church Altair?”, Malik said and sounded a bit unnerved, wiping his face with his palm and turning towards Altair.

 

“The smell”, the other man told him with a smug smile, “it's the smell that reminds of the one of an old church. So I was right? Well, to be honest it was just a wild guess.”

 

“It's an abandoned church, there'd been a fire five years ago destroying most of the church itself and the buildings around it. It's a quite place and as you know, those are rare in Jerusalem.”

 

“Follow me”, Malik beckoned at Altair, still not used to it that he couldn't see his movements. “Be a good dog and follow your master”, he chuckled and Altair growled at him which made Malik laugh even more. “Take a step to your right or you'll run into that old bench. Good, no go straight ahead, yes, further, further, further – stop. Turn right, reach forward and grab the ladder. Good boy, now climb up after me.”

 

“You know Malik, one day you will get all of this back.”

 

“Yes but that day is not today so let me enjoy that I have your submission right now.”

 

“So where are we now?”, Altair asked once he could feel that he'd reached the end of the ladder, carefully feeling his way around, his hands leaving prints on the dust covered floor.

 

“I don't know, I think this once had been some sort of balcony. You like heights, I've thought I take you closer to the clouds again.”

 

“How thoughtful of you”, Altair bit sarcastically at him although Malik could tell that there was a tiny smile tracing his lips. “And how poetically you'vee said that. Maybe there's a poet lost in you.”

 

“Maybe”, Malik hummed and when he saw how awkwardly Altair was kneeling on the floor once he'd made his way off the ladder, feeling his way around he took his wrist and pulled him forwards, earning a surprised yelp from Altair. “Oh you're jumpy”, Malik told him in an amused little voice but to be honest, if he wouldn't make fun of Altair right now he didn't know what else to do to not drown in his worries about Altair's condition. If you don't have any more tears to cry, laugh.

 

“I did not expect that”, Altair huffed, his flat palm pressing against the floor next to Malik's hip, their faces so close they were able to breath the same air. He sat up a little, straightened his shoulders and sat with crossed legs in front of Malik. “Nor is it necessary for you to hold my hand all the time. I'm not five.”

 

“You're not five but with you being blind you can get just as easily lost as a five-year-old so stop complaining now. I hold your hand when I want to hold it.”

 

“Getting amorous feelings Malik?”

 

“Oh shut it already.” Malik threw a nasty glare at Altair and of course, he just looked with empty eyes into the direction Malik's voice was coming from.

 

“So no, really. Why did you take me here?”

 

“Because you've told me you were looking for sanctuary and since you refuse to go back to Masyaf it makes me think you don't feel safe with the Order anymore so... going back to the bureau didn't seem like the right option.”

 

Altair blinked for a couple of times at him and he slowly lowered his gaze, his fingers playing with the hem of his pants and it was the first time Malik could tell Altair seemed... nervous. “So you don't feel safe with the Order?”, he asked again and leaned his head to one side, trying to see Altair's eyes.

 

“I don't trust the Order”, Altair said in a low breath. Malik sat up at that and his shoulders went tense. “Why?”, he asked, his voice darker and eyes narrowed now – this felt like a horrible deja-vu from when Altair had told him about his doubts about Al Mualim... “I've thought we took care of everything, I wouldn't have left if I wouldn't have thought that things have finally calmed down, I-”

 

“Malik”, Altair interrupted him although his voice was so soft Malik almost hadn't heard him the first time. “Things have changed since you left.”

 

“I've been gone for a year. How much can you fuck up within a year?”

 

“It's not- I didn't-” Altair stuttered and Malik frowned. Altair never stuttered especially not when Malik was verbally attacking him like that, Altair would always leash back at him and both men knew their words could be just as sharp as swords. Malik leaned forward, placing his hand on Altair's thigh gently and this time, Altair didn't jump. “What happened, brother?”, he asked carefully, his voice full of concern.

 

“It was just a matter of time actually. I assume you'll receive the letter tomorrow or the day after. To be honest, I was surprised you didn't already get one. I've thought pigeons would travel faster than I would.”

 

So Altair didn't really help for Malik to understand any of the mess and he groaned in frustration. “What letter?”

 

“That I am no longer the Grandmaster of the Order and that I, being the traitor I am, am no longer a member of the Brotherhood but an outcast sentenced to death.”

 

Altair's words knocked all the air out of Malik's lungs and his face went pale while his vision started to blur. “Come again?”, he whispered weakly because surely he must have misunderstood Altair.

 

“Telling you this already hurts as if I've swallowed razorblades, I'm not going to tell you again”, Altair spoke quietly.

 

“Altair...”, Malik whispered softly, “just what the hell happened?”

 

But it seemed as if Altair hadn't heard him. “So if you'll receive that letter tomorrow, it's your duty to bring me back to Masyaf where I can be executed.”

 

“What? No!” Malik looked disbelievingly at Altair, blinking rapidly as he had caught some dust in his eye. “What is this nonsense?”

 

“You've wanted the truth, I'm telling you the truth”, Altair simply said and his voice grew quieter and quieter with every word he spoke.

 

“But none of this makes sense. Did you betray the Order?” And this time Malik swallowed the _Again?._

 

To his big surprise, to his pure horror, Altair nodded. “Yes I did and I believe those accusations are true.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I've made a pact with the devil.”

 

Malik finally had enough though and he knelt, pushing against Altair's shoulders angrily and send him on his back, straddling his hips and going for his throat, his fingers wrapping tightly around. “You idiot, just what did you do? Altair, you're going to tell me right now, you're- you-! Ugh!”

 

Malik was so angry that he had no words left, his fingers closing further around the man's throat and he watched how the color of his face turned red but Altair didn't move, didn't even fight him and that was maybe what made him snap out of it, his fists slowly opening again. He breathed heavily when he leaned over Altair, Malik's eyes searching Altair's empty ones and he wondered then just how much his world could turn within the blink of an eye. “So tell me”, he whispered in a low hiss, “should I tie you up and bring you back to Masyaf? Would it be the right thing to do?” He held his breath and waited for Altair's words, hoping dearly the man would chose the right ones because Malik didn't know if he'd be able to do just that. “No it wouldn't”, Altair said eventually, his eyes slipping shut voice sounding hoarse and Malik released a breath of relieve. “I am a traitor”, Altair spoke softly again, “but am I really the traitor when everybody around me is corrupt?”

 

“How do you mean that? Is it the Apple again? Did something poison the minds of our Brothers?”, Malik sort of just blurted.

 

“Somebody stole the Apple”, Altair finally admitted and Malik's went wide with surprise, then narrowed again.

 

“No. You're kidding me”, he whispered but Altair nodded.

 

“Somebody took it and replaced it with a fake one but...”

 

“...but?”

 

“Whoever made the copy knew the Apple very well, it almost works like the real one.”

 

“You used it? You didn't see it was just a replica?”

 

Again, Altair shook his head. “No, I used I and it's like- it's like as if it's the real Apple but as if somebody had... poisoned it.”

 

“Poisoned it.”

 

“I've went blind when I looked into it”, Altair sighed.

 

“I've thought you got blind because you got hit in the head.”

 

Altair rose a single eyebrow at Malik as if to say _Really? You actually believed that shit?_

 

“Right, right”, Malik sighed and wiped his face once more, sitting a bit more up on Altair's lap. “So somebody somehow managed to snatch the Apple from you, replaced with a poisoned one”, he said as he just didn't know a better fitting word, “and now everybody at Masyaf are underneath the new Apple's... spell? Is that about right?”

 

“Well that's the short version of the short version but it seems about right”, Altair sighed.

 

Malik looked down on him, his palm touching the floor right next to Altair's head as he leaned close above his face. “Then why don't you tell me the long version?”


	5. Chapter 5

 “I don't know the long version to be honest. I don't understand anything of this yet”, Altair sighed and he closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose next, groaning softly.

 

“What is it?”, Malik asked. “Does it hurt?”

 

Altair's hand dropped from his head. “Of course it hurts. It hurts all the time.”

 

“How did you manage to escape and to come here?”, Malik whispered and Altair sighed heavily.

 

“I... I think it's time for a confession.” Altair drew a deep breath in. “I'm not... really blind-”

 

“What?!”

 

“-I mean I _am_ blind but...”

 

“But?” Malik felt how he was growing inpatient. “Spill it already or I will beat it out of you Altair.”

 

“I can see things but it's not- it's not like you would understand seeing.” Altair groaned. “Malik, if you've never seen the color red in your whole life how do you expect me to explain to you what it looks like? I don't know, I just see... things.”

 

“Well, can you see me?”

 

“No. I mean. Yes. Not your face or how you look like, but more like... I can see your voice.”

 

“My voice.”

 

Altair nodded. “I was able to make my way out of Masyaf because of the things I see, fought my way out of there and rode off the roads to Jerusalem.”

 

“So what is it you see?”, Malik pondered as he was having a hard time to imagine what Altair was talking about.

 

“The future, I think.”

 

“So is that why you just see my... voice? Are you seeing that much of the future that I'm not having a place in it anymore?” At that Malik saw Altair flinching, as if he was struck by a wave of pain, vanishing as quickly as it'd come and it took him only mere seconds to regain his composure, making it hard for Malik to read in his face at all.

 

“That's it, yes”, he nodded.

 

“Bullshit”, Malik snorted. “What are you not telling me?” But Altair simply pursed his lips, face as stoic as ever and betraying nothing. “Well?”, Malik tried it again and once more, Altair kept silent, looking over Malik's right shoulder. He leaned close over Altair's face, his fingers curling in his collar. “What are you not telling me?”, he whispered hoarsely and they were so closet they almost breathed the same air. It was then that Altair closed his eyes. “I can see you”, he admitted eventually, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.

 

Malik knew that wasn't all of it but instead of pushing, he just kept waiting for Altair to continue and it didn't take too long for it to happen. “You're dead.”

 

“What?” Malik frowned. He looked down his body and held his one remaining hand up. “Did they hit you on the head or something?”, he asked as he slowly looked from his hand back to Altair.

 

“You're dead and I can see it.”

 

“You need to explain this right now”, Malik said and to emphasize it, pointed down towards the ground with his finger.

 

“I am blind to the presence but I am not to the future. I can see what the future will bring for you, for this city, this land... for everybody in this world.”

 

“Death is something no man can't escape from Altair. “

 

Altair nodded and cocked his head to one side. “If you're of old age, yes. You though-”

 

“Me though?”

 

Altair looked up and this time, he met Malik's gaze just perfectly. “But you are not when you die.”

 

Malik blinked a couple of times before his self defense mechanism kicked back in full force, his face pulling back into a stoic mask, his chin a little higher as he pulled his shoulder up, his gaze distance and almighty. “So how do I die then?”

 

“I don't know the circumstances but it seems you're about to lose... your head.”

 

“My head.”

 

“Your head”, Altair nodded, then sighed and run his fingers through his hair.

 

“So let's see if I understood correctly. You can't see but the future and you see me as a walking corpse without a head?”

 

“Sort of.”

 

“Sort of”, Malik repeated again, then sighed. He was starting to have a headache. “Alright, alright. I can understand now when you say you can't explain this to me. But you can't see the church, is that right? Because it doesn't exist in the future anymore?”

 

Altair nodded. “Yes”, he sighed with an impatient roll of his eyes and Malik sent him an angry glare, a glare Altair couldn't see anyway. “But I do have a head.”

 

“I can't see it”, Altair muttered and for the first time it sounded as if he was about to lose his patience.

 

“Is that why you never look directly at me? Not because you can't see but because you can't stand _what_ you see?” Altair didn't answer but gnawed on his lip then lifted his hand to bite his nails. “Don't do that”, Malik said and took Altair's wrist pulling it away from his mouth. “Here”, he said and his voice softer now that he understood. “I'm still here Altair”, he said just as gentle and rose the man's hand so his fingers could touch his face. “You can feel this?”, Malik asked while Altair's fingers lay gently against his jaw. Malik watched him nodding.

 

He didn't say anything when Altair slowly moved, his fingers brushing over his brow and down his nose, to his cheek and ear. He didn't say anything when Altair's thumb moved over his lips and he held his breath when Altair's thumb pressed down on his bottom lip, making them part a bit. “I'm still here”, Malik said eventually, breathless and with a way too fast heartbeat. “I'm still here.” He hadn't realized just how close he'd come with Altair, hadn't realized he was staring at his lips. But it wasn't too late yet and before he could do anything he might regret later, he pulled back up and sat on top of Altair. “So what now?”, Malik asked and looked everywhere but Altair.

 

“You bring me back to Masyaf of course”, Altair said almost confused.

 

“We both know I won't do that.”

 

“Then you're a traitor yourself.”

 

“I've once been a traitor and how did it end?”, Malik asked and Altair knew he was talking about when he went against his orders and came to Altair's aid when he was facing Al Mualim.

 

“That was different. You're-” But he licked over his lips as his voice suddenly died and when he spoke again, his words were thick and hoarse, “You're the only connection to the Order I can trust. I need you there.”

 

“So are you telling me you came all the way here so I could bring you back?”

 

“No”, Altair shook his head. “That wouldn't make much sense.”

 

“Well, to be honest you often don't make much sense-”

 

“Be careful with your next words Malik, I'm blind but I'm not helpless.”

 

“Alright”, Malik said and slowly stood from Altair. “Nobody knows you're here anyway.”

 

“Nobody but Jamal”, Altair said and pursed his lips, slowly sitting up and resting his hands in his lap while Malik drew a sharp breath in. “I forgot about Jamal”, he admitted softly.

 

“You don't need to worry about him anyway.”

 

“Oh I don't?”, Malik asked and put his hand on his hip.

 

“I've send him on a mission that will keep him occupied for quite a while. He's no threat for us, he's just a boy.”

 

“He's a novice, first of all Altair and you know our novices are no boys. Not anymore. I assume you exchanged the pigeon's letter with your own to give Jamal new orders?”

 

Altair nodded. “Pigeon arrived at night and Jamal is a heavy sleeper.”

 

“I'm impressed you could do all this when you're blind.”

 

“I never fail to do that”, Altair smirked and oh, Malik had missed seeing him doing that. Damn novice... “So are you going to tell me your plan now Altair?”

 

“I need your help indeed old friend”, Altair muttered. “Who's the one person who knows the most about the Apple?”

 

Malik frowned. “How do you mean that?”

 

“Who was after the Apple Malik? If I recall it correctly that had been Robert de Sablé and Al Mualim.”

 

“Which are both dead by the way, but yes.”

 

At this Altair looked up, smiling faintly. “That's true but Robert's right hand is very much alive.”

 

“And you know where that man is?”, Malik asked, frowning.

 

Altair nodded. “I need to get to England.”  


	6. Chapter 6

 

The sun had already set at horizon once they've returned to the bureau and it was only now that Malik turned around facing Altair sitting in one of the big cushions near the small fountain outside in the bureau's court. “This is madness,” he said eventually and paced back then forth again as if he was restless and unable to keep his feet still – which was true, after all. “That is probably the dumbest thing I have ever heard,” Malik groaned and his hand flew up to his head, fisting his hair and turned it into a complete mess. “Are you sure nobody hit you on the head?” It was probably the third or fourth time he'd asked Altair that but to be honest, Malik was almost sure Altair had lost his mind somewhere in the desert between Masyaf and Jerusalem.

 

“If you can think of a better plan then please, feel free to share with me,” Altair simply said, voice calm and even and Malik had to admit, Altair _had_ changed over the past year but right now he wasn't sure if he liked it.

 

“If we kill a man they will know it isn't you by just looking at his hands,” Malik said and wirggled his fingers. “And if we cut off one they will also know. It's a terrible plan.”

 

“It's a terrible plan if we just kill an innocent bystander, somebody who isn't involved.”

 

Malik's eyes went up sharply. “You mean to kill a brother.” It wasn't a question but a simply statement and Malik felt physically ill when Altair nodded. “No,” he said and turned back around facing the bureau's entrance because right now he couldn't stand Altair's sight. “No,” he said once more, this time with more force. “We can't kill one of our own.”

 

Altair was silent and when Malik finally couldn't stand it anymore he saw how his head was cocked to one side, eyes closed as if he was deep in thoughts. “If we kill a traitor it'll only do good to the Order.”

 

“If we-” But Malik cut himself off. “Right now the whole damn Order is corrupted by traitors Altair.” When he saw Altair simply nod it only made him more furious. “So you think because of that it'll justify for us to kill one of our own. To lure him into safety and then stab him from behind in the back? That's low,” he spat out the words. “That's disgusting. Just so we have a corpse that I can sell as your body?” It would only give him a few days of time anyway – Malik was certain, sooner or later they _will_ find out that the dead man he'd bring to them wasn't Altair.

 

“I hear you talking about honor and the right thing to do when we have the blood of a hundred man sticking to our hands.” Or more like hand, in some cases. “War isn't pretty Malik. You of all people should know this.” Altair rubbed his face with one hand, eyes empty and hollow when he searched for the spot where Malik was standing. “The days in which we obey our orders and duties with honor are over.”

 

“Bullshit,” Malik said and now he really did feel sick to stomach and close to just throwing up. “There has to be another way.”

 

“No.” Malik looked up, surprised with how much force Altair said the word. “There is no other way. They're all looking for me and every day I spend here brings my head closer to the noose. If they think I'm dead, killed by one of my closest adjutants it'll give a few days to get out of the country. They won't look for a ghost Malik.”

 

Malik pressed his lips to a thin line, making them turn white as he gritted his teeth with such force that his jaw hurt. “Wouldn't it be wiser to look for the thief? Instead of running to our enemies asking them for help?”

 

“Malik.” Altair stood suddenly up, crossing the court and the distance between them, grabbing him by the arm. Malik looked at Altair's fingers clenched around his arm while frowning, then up to the man's face. Such violent display of raw emotions running along Altair's face was rare, almost never happened and he wasn't sure if he'd ever witnessed him like that. He almost looked... desperate. “I've _seen_ the future. I still see the future every day. There won't be allies or enemies once every thing's set into progress, it-” But he cut himself off sharply, not daring to speak any further and Malik looked closer.

 

“What is it you're not telling me? What else are you hiding Altair?”

 

Altair shrugged. “Everything.” God, his cryptic answers made Malik furious and his fingers had already balled into a fist with how much he just wanted to punch Altair.

 

“Fine,” Malik said and shook his arm free of Altair's hold, taking a step back since he wasn't certain he could bear being this close to Altair. He wondered how everything could turn into shit so fast. Just a year ago he'd been there and witnessed how Altair was named Grandmaster and now- He shook his head, not allowing himself to go down that road. “There needs to be another way,” he said again through gritted teeth but the moment he spoke the words he already knew the answer to them. Altair was right.

 

“I sometimes wish none of this would have ever happened,” Malik said, his voice drained of all energy and he slowly slumped down onto one of the cushions, head leaning against the wall as he looked up into the evening sky.

 

“Sometimes? Try every day,” Altair scoffed and settled down next to Malik although more carefully, his hands touching the wall as he let himself down.

 

Malik pinched the bridge of his nose, he felt a headache building. “So who-” He stopped speaking and swallowed down the the sour taste of bile rising at the back of his throat. “Who did you think of who... matches you in hight and build that I will... present as your corpse in Masyaf.” He hadn't asked Altair yet what he should tell his brothers about killing the Grandmaster – it must be something good because everybody knew Malik was one of Altair's biggest supporters.

 

“Samuel”, Altair said and the name hit home, making Malik tremble and cringe.

 

“Why he?”

 

Altair turned his head and even while blind, cocked an eyebrow at Malik his look saying more than words.

 

“He's a good man,” Malik muttered.

 

“He's currently the closest to Jerusalem.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Did you already forget I switched his message with mine to get rid of Jamal?”

 

Malik's shoulders slumped. “No...”

 

“He's the only one who matches all criteria.” The way how Altair said it made Malik wonder if the man even felt something at all – he was talking about plotting Samuel's death like he was bargain about the price for a goat. “He became an assassin the same year I did,” Malik muttered. He looked sideways at Altair. “He trusts me.”

 

“Like you and I trusted Al Mualim”, and it was only know that all the bitterness showed in Altair's voice.

 

“You can't compare those two!”

 

“No I can't but it's still the same.” Altair pursed his lips. “Don't you dare and think this is easy for me.” It made Malik scoff. “Tch, you do a terrible job in making me think otherwise,” he told Altair.

 

“Then what is it you expect of me?” Altair's voice had turned to a hiss and now Malik really wondered why they were fighting like this when they were both on the same side with the same goal. “Do you want me to crawl to your feet and go cry in a corner?”

 

Malik's mouth twitched. “Maybe.”

 

“Fuck you Malik.”

 

“Always choosing such polite words Altair.” Malik rubbed his temple. He knew fighting didn't do them any good and while he _did_ fight a lot with Altair usually or more like... used to when he was staying at Masyaf the year after Al Mualim's fall they usually didn't fight like... this. “Is this the Apple's doing?” he asked eventually. “Did it poison your mind as well?”

 

“What?”

 

“Altair- this isn't like us, is it? We bicker like an old couple most times but you never have this look on you as if you'd want to kill me.”

 

Altair shook his head, “I don't know. I wish I could say it was.”

 

Malik sighed heavily and slowly got up – his bones and muscles hurt like those of an old man and he groaned. “I will send a pigeon for Samuel,” he said in a soft voice, almost too quiet for Altair to hear. “Once he arrives-”

 

“Once he arrives I'll be on my way,” Altair cut him off.

 

“You let me do the dirty work?” He watched how Altair shook his head. “No,” he said. “I'm blind but as you've witnessed at the market I'm still able to kill a man. This... this is my mess, I take care of him.”

 

Malik nodded. “You better make it quick.”

 

-

 

Killing Samuel had been a complete mess. The man hadn't seen it coming and it all went very quick but the blood was everywhere and Malik had thrown up at least three times already when he tried to clean the floors. He'd ordered Altair to get Samuel out of the office, not able to stand the corpse's sight. It had pained him more than he would have thought to stare into the man's empty dead eyes and the sound of Altair's blade cutting through muscles and bones as he got rid of his head had made him almost bite off his tongue. This was probably the ugliest kill Malik had ever have to witness and it made him feel like a novice again, back when he'd killed for the first time... only this time he felt even worse because Samuel was innocent, just a puppet played by a greater Master who didn't know what he was doing but following orders without questioning them.

 

“You won't have much time to escape after you've brought them Samuel,” Altair explained as he stepped back into the bureau, his hands still wet from water. He'd probably washed his hands in the fountain after he'd wrapped everything up. “You bring them Samuel, tell them how it happened and let them show you your room. If they still follow the protocol they'll wait for the council to arrive with them wanting to question you. I think it's going to take a day at least so you leave Masyaf at night. If you're lucky they only notice in the morning.”

 

Malik scoffed while he could still taste vomit on his tongue. “You make it sound so easy.”

 

“Believe me I know it's not.”

 

“And where do I go from there?” He wasn't sure if Altair realized this but he actually didn't believe this plan would work.

 

“You go to Aleppo. Wait for a sign. It'll be there, I promise you.”

 

“I don't like this Altair,” Malik muttered once he'd finished washing the floor and got up from his knees.

 

“You think I do?”

 

Malik was quiet for a long time, his hands still a little red and damp from the water. He startled when he felt Altair's fingers on his shoulder but didn't turn around to face him. “It's not going to work,” Malik admitted eventually.

 

“I have faith in you brother. I know it will.”

 

But Malik shook his head. “If I'm lucky they only throw me into the dungeons. Who's in charge right now anyway?” He looked over his shoulder and the look he saw on Altair's face was all he really needed. “For fuck's sake...! Not him.”

 

Altair closed his mouth again. “Who else?”

 

“I swear Abbas is like the fucking Hydra. When there's trouble he's always there isn't he?”

 

Altair nodded, “I should have killed him back then.”

 

“You didn't kill him back then for a reason. Don't forget that,” Malik said and now his voice was by far more gentle than it had only been a few seconds ago.

 

It was quiet for a very long moment and the silence was pressing down so hard on Malik's shoulders that he thought he would give in underneath it any moment now. “You leave tomorrow in the morning,” he told Altair. “As will I for Masyaf.”

 

He turned around to look at Altair, watching how the man nodded. Neither of them said a word about that tonight would maybe the last time they would see each other.  


	7. Chapter 7

Malik was surprised that when he woke up early in the morning even before sunrise and before he could make out the distant shouts of the retailers at the nearby market, Altair was still there sleeping outside on his spot in a sea of cushions right next to the fountain, curled on one side and hands tugged underneath his chin. His sword leaned against the wall next to him together with his crossbow. The row of throwing knives lay to his feet but Malik couldn’t make out the hidden blade – he probably still wore it around his wrist. If he remembered correctly, Altair never went unarmed to bed. It was a cool morning with a clear sky which slowly went from a dark rich blue to a light purple as sun crawled up higher and higher. He went to do his morning business first, taking off the shirt and short pants he wore during the night to wash himself with icy cold water in the middle of the small chamber he used to sleep in next to the bureau’s big room where he greeted his Brothers during the day. He risked a glance in the small mirror hanging above his bed just big enough for him to use it when he shaved himself – Malik rubbed his chin and cheeks, then decided he could go another day without cutting his hair. He pulled on his pants and boots for the day then picked up his whites and the blue robes. Malik rolled the blanket he slept on in and stuffed it underneath two or three pillows by the end of his mattress then reached for the rod he used to open and close the bureau’s skylight – he’d always open it before breakfast. It wasn’t rare for a Brother spending all night in the roof only to wake up early in the morning hoping for Malik opening already. He walked past Altair who still hadn’t stir in his sleep and opened the window, taking a quick look upwards. This morning nobody was there.

 

“Altair,” he muttered as he made his way back to the bureau’s entrance. “Get up. You need to leave.” There wasn’t a reaction or sign Altair has heard him. Malik sighed and took a detour to Altair’s sleeping place to nudge him with a foot. “Rise and shine novice,” he grunted and was about to turn his back on Altair when he caught some quick movement out of the corner of his eye, a motion happening to his feet before he was lift off his feet and found himself back first onto the ground with all the air pushed out of his lungs, leaving him gasping there. “What the-“

 

Altair was on top of him, one hand reaching for Malik’s arm to push it high up above his head while he pressed his hidden blade close to his throat, eyes unfocused, dull and looking everywhere all at once. “Altair!” Malik said through gritted teeth and pulled against the hold he had of his arm. “You stupid novice, it’s me, Malik.” He could see how the pieces of a puzzle came back together in Altair’s drowsy mind, the wheels starting to turn again as his mind begun to work. He blinked, shaking the heavy clouds of sleep off and at looked at something shortly above Malik’s head.

 

“I’m sorry”, he muttered pulling his knife away. “I’ve thought you were someone else…”

 

“So I’ve noticed,” Malik grunted and tried to roll his shoulders. “You’re still sitting on me,” he added and when Altair noticed, he got up and away from him quickly, sitting back on his heels with his hands folded in his lap.

 

“I’m used to nicer greetings in the morning,” Malik said while he rubbed his shoulder, his bones cracking as he slowly stood up again and his hand reaching for the lower part of his back where it hurt the most. “I won’t forget that,” he added and pointed his finger at Altair although it was probably useless showing such gestures to a blind man. “You overslept – the sun is about to rise and you’re still here.” Malik turned around and limped back into the bureau. “If you don’t want a Brother to accidently see you, you should leave already.”

 

“If I remember correctly there shouldn’t be a Brother in Jerusalem right now,” Altair said as he followed Malik’s voice inside the bureau. A few days ago his steps had been uneasy and careful but now Malik was certain not a lot of people would realize there was something wrong with Altair’s vision – he was moving with the confidence of somebody who could see the world bright and clear. “You want me gone that badly?”

 

“Nonsense,” Malik said as he reached for the water to let it boil above the fire, getting busy with his morning routines before he’d close the bureau for good and make it out of the city with Samuel’s corpse in two. It wouldn’t be that complicated to smuggle him outside, if he would hide him well enough between all the things Malik intended to take with him. “It was the plan for us to leave in the morning.”

 

“I won’t be seeing you in a long time.”

 

“You haven’t seen me since you’ve arrived here,” Malik scoffed. “And at this point we don’t even know if you’ll ever see me again.”

 

“That was harsh Malik.”

 

“It was the truth,” he sighed and went to boil the water, adding some peppermint into it for tea and as he turned around he saw Altair standing in the door with the rising sun shining behind his back setting his face into deep shadows. “Are you growing sentimental now? We’ve been through worse than this.”

 

“You keep telling yourself that,” Altair muttered and crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning against the doorframe. “And maybe one day you’ll believe yourself.”

 

“You’re being overdramatic.”

 

“I just know the risks Malik,” he muttered, speaking every word slow and with care – so much different from the young Assassin Malik once had known. Altair has grown as Grandmaster, he’d changed and yet there were times where it was difficult for Malik to see. Because at times he believed the days in which they’ve been nothing but some hotheaded novices had been easier for them and maybe that was even true. There was just more than one night where he thought back to those days – it were the nights his brother came to visit him in his dreams.

 

“I know them too but it needs to be done – we live in the shadows to serve the light, Altair.”

 

“I’m just trying to think of a proper way to say good bye to you.” Altair pushed himself from the door and walked the few feet separating him and Malik. He stopped opposite of the fire, watching Malik through the flames of it and now he was looking at him, meeting his eyes and all as if he wasn’t blind. To Malik, Altair was full of mysteries. There wasn’t a day that went by without the man surprising him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair what he did to him.

 

Malik glared at him, unimpressed by the fact Altair could not see it but hopefully feel his anger boiling in his blood. He let go of the ladle to stir the water with and vanished behind the counter, reaching to grab something from the lower shelve there. When he returned to Altair he pressed it right into his chest. “There. This is your proper way to say good bye,” he muttered, angrier at himself than Altair but Malik thought he didn’t need to know that.

 

Altair reached for Malik’s hand and felt what he shoved into his chest. As soon as his fingers touched it Malik let go and took a step back. “It’s a feather,” Altair said with surprise and looked up, eyes searching for the place where he thought Malik was standing.

 

“You’ll bring it back to me after your mission was successful novice,” Malik said and he turned away, setting his focus back onto making tea – stupid useless tea but he needed something to busy his body and mind with, just anything so he could avoid looking at Altair. He reached for more peppermint and threw it into the boiling water then went to get a cup. He noticed Altair still standing there, his fingers feeling every little detail of the feather before his shoulders straightened, his eyes growing even more distant.

 

“Safety and peace, Malik,” Altair said and Malik didn’t look up when he filled his cup with tea, checking the fire underneath the pot and when he looked up again, Altair was gone. He went to the door, placing his cup on top of the counter so it could be forgotten there, sticking his head out of the door and into the court. His weapons where already gone and when he heard a soft thud coming from the roof, Malik looked up just in time to see a boot vanish over the rooftop.

 

“Safety and peace, Brother,” he whispered.

 

xxx

 

 

As Malik had assumed, it hadn’t been that difficult to get out of Jerusalem. He’d bought a donkey and a cart where among all his belongings and the supplies he’d need for the journey, Samuel was hidden. It made Malik sick to the stomach still and even after a few miles he’d left the city behind him, he couldn’t get rid of it. He probably never would, Samuel’s death would probably stick to him until the last of his days, slowly poisoning him from the inside. It was what he deserved, he didn’t even try to make up for it. Maybe someday after all of this was long forgotten and behind them, he’d understand that it was necessary to kill one in order to save thousands. But this day wasn’t today so Malik was busy most of the times to not throw up. The sun stood high on the sky and he pulled his hood deeper into his face to shield him from the heat. Altair was riding the opposite direction of him and yet, Malik expected to find him waiting at horizon for him, sitting on a horse shielding his eyes from the sun and offering one of those lopsided smirks to greet him with. That would hardly happen and Malik wondered still how Altair would manage to make it to Aleppo when being blind – but then again, he made it all the way from Masyaf to Jerusalem and even fooled Malik the first time meeting him that nothing was wrong. It’d taken him a while to realize there wasn’t something right with his Grandmaster but he probably would have never thought for Altair to be blind.

 

Malik sighed, the reins lying loosely in his hands as the animal trotted slowly over gravel and stones, the cart Malik was sitting on rocking from one side to the other. He would stay on the main street leading towards Masyaf, but stay the night in the wilderness away from villages and farms. He’d rather avoid for a nosy thief to take a glance into his cart and find the corpse of a man there.

 

The hours went by and Malik only took one break before he decided today was enough and made camp near a small creek, his donkey currently drinking while he set up a fire for the night. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he was missing something but tried to shake the feeling off as he sat down to cook his evening meal.

 

He thought of Altair during most of his dinner, his spoon often hovering shortly above his lips before he’d remember he was eating and shoving the cold stew into his mouth.

 

 

It was funny how his mind was most occupied with the man who Malik once believed ruined his life – it was funny how he’d come to wanting to throttle Altair to death to… even missing him. His days at Jerusalem were boring most of the time and there’d been more than one moment where he’d thought sending Altair a pigeon to ask for his return to Masyaf. But Malik didn’t feel like begging and while Altair would probably tell him asking to return home was nowhere near begging, Malik still refused to do so. He stayed the first year after Altair became Grandmaster to help him set everything into order and Malik remembered one of their conversations about Malik’s new position as Dai next to Altair’s side. But back then Malik hadn’t want to, not like this. He wanted to earn that position and not because he’d played a lucky part in a revolution that had killed their former Grandmaster in the end.

 

Now he felt foolish for doing so – he remembered his first days in Jerusalem after Al Mualim had sent him there. For Malik it’d felt like punishment and it probably was for failing his mission at Solomon’s Temple. If Malik wouldn’t have received the Artifact, he was curtain Al Mualim would have simply killed him. What good could a one armed assassin do to the Order? Nothing. And Al Mualim had known that. So instead of beheading him, he’d sent Malik to Jerusalem to work the bureau there, both a punishment and a reward. There were days though in which Malik couldn’t really tell the difference anymore.

 

It was weird, maybe even frightening how even in times like these, Altair’s mere presence brought him joy. There was no way of denying it, but he missed his friend terrible. And he hated the fact he’d agreed to their plan, Altair going to Aleppo while Malik rode straight into the lion’s mouth, a beast ready to cut his head off his shoulders. It wouldn’t be easy to deal with Abbas. It wouldn’t be easy to convince him of a lie to why he’d ‘killed’ Altair. Malik hated ever little detail of Altair’s plan but also knew it was probably the only thing they could do to call Abba’s watchdogs back and off Altair’s neck.

 

Malik shook his head, finishing the last of his stew. He trusted Altair. It would work. Everything would just work out fine for them.

 

xxx

 

It was day five when Malik arrived in Masyaf and he couldn’t believe it was the same place he left one year ago. There were guards everywhere and he’s had a bit of trouble to get through the gate and inside Masyaf’s walls. The people he met on his way upwards towards the castle looked frightened, their eyes roaming suspiciously over Malik and then back to their own business, at times even avoiding his gaze as if they were afraid of him.

 

He wasn’t even close to Masyaf’s gate when four Brothers were walking down the steep hill, stopping him and his cart with swords in their hands. “Greetings Brothers”, Malik told them and tipped his head at the men. He didn’t know their faces, they were young and probably just crawled out of their teens. He thought he remembered one of them from a year ago, a novice who came talking to him to get advice for his skills with a sword but Malik wasn’t sure anymore. Their eyes were staring hard and cold at him as if he was a traitor, an enemy but not a Brother and that was probably too.

 

“We have to ask you to give us your weapons,” one of them said, a man with a scar going across his face from his left eye to the right of his mouth. He made a gesture with his hand, two of the men dismounting their horses and walking up to Malik.

 

He thought it was best to play along no matter how ridiculous he found this. “Very well,” he said and stood up in his cart, pulling his sword from his belt – it was the only weapon he really used these days but he wasn’t surprised when one of the guards pulled him down and off his cart, searching him for more.

 

“Clean sir,” he said as he took a step back but was still eying Malik from head to toe as if a one armed man was the most dangerous threat he could possibly ever met. It was laughable, really.

 

“I’m not an enemy my friends,” Malik told them and made a reassuring gesture with his hand. “I’m here to talk with Abbas.”

 

“You’re Malik al-Sayf from Jerusalem”, their leader said as he looked down over his nose at Malik, pulling a bit at the reins of his horse who grew restless. Malik nodded, slowly.

 

“Yes I am,” he said carefully, licking over his lips. This was where the tricky part started and he could only hope everything would go as Altair had predicted it. “And I bring news,” he added.

 

“I’m Hadil,” the man said and pressed the palm of his hand against his chest where his heart was. “Third in command. And what news do you have _Dai_?” He pressed the last word through gritted teeth.  

 

“I’d rather discuss them with Abbas in private,” Malik said while cocking his head to one side, offering a small bow with his one hand behind his back.

 

Hadil watched him for a long time, not sure what business Malik meant – he probably got the information that Malik was a traitor. But in the end, he nodded. “Alright,” he nodded and gestured two of the guards to flank Malik’s card from each side while he and the other guard rode ahead of Malik.

 

It took a bit longer for them to reach the castle, Malik’s donkey was slow as the cart was heavy and the road leading up there steep. In the end, he had to leave all of it behind, men guarding his guard as if an assassin could jump out of it and attack everybody any second now before he was escorted inside, flanked by two guards to each side. His heart was beating fast and Malik felt sweat forming on his brow. He felt like entering hell and yet, this was the place he once called a home but it didn’t feel like it anymore. There was blood still clinging to the ground, a pile of corpse set up at the back behind the training ring – probably the last remains of the fight that occurred when Abbas overtook the Order and Altair’s followers fighting him.  There was an eerie peace lingering in their air, covering the whole castle in a thick blanket and it made the hair on Malik’s arm stand to end. This didn’t feel like home, not at all. This felt more like entering a grave.

 

Hadil was walking ahead of him, stopping by the end of the stairs leading into the great hall. “Grandmaster,” he called with his voice booming and echoing through the court loudly, the men doing their business around them suddenly stopping and turning their gaze onto Malik. “The Jerusalem’s Dai is here!”

 

There was a gasp going through the crowd and it turned so silent around Malik like he’d only experienced once – that was years ago, right after Solomon’s Temple when Altair was brought to Al Mualim and punished in front of the whole castle, stripped by his rank too and left to death if it wouldn’t have been for Al Mualim’s mercy. It didn’t feel the same now as it felt back then – he was surrounded by traitors and cowards who doubted Altair. This couldn’t get any worse.

 

He looked up when Abbas appeared at the top of the stairs, flanked by not two but for men – probably afraid as hell to be stabbed in the back by one of Altair’s followers, Malik assumed. He was limping and the closer he got, Malik could see that he’d been badly wounded. There was a badge covering one eye, his arm resting in a sling and he was using a cane to walk down the stairs. Seems like Altair had gotten him some before leaving.

 

Abbas stopped just shortly before the end of the stairs, looking down at Malik. For a long time nothing happened before he pulled his lips up to a smile. “If it isn’t our long forgotten Dai,” he said and made a small gesture with his good arm. “Welcome home, my… friend. I take it news have already reached Jerusalem for you to run back home?” He asked in a mocking tone and the guards to Malik’s sides stepped closer, one of them putting an arm on his shoulder in a warning – but Malik didn’t plan on doing anything.

 

“News have reached my ear, yes,” Malik said and he spoke loud enough so every man in the court could hear him. “I’ve heard news about our Grandmaster betraying us. About a new dawn rising upon our Brotherhood.”

 

Abbas smile turned to an ugly smirk. “Must have been hard for you,” he started, “hearing that being our former Grandmaster’s best friend. I have let you know, Malik I’ve stripped you of your rank as Dai and have my men treat you like a traitor until you can prove your innocence”, Abbas explained and crooked his finger, the two men to Malik’s side taking him by his arm, twisting it on his back painfully. It almost made him loose his balance.

 

“I’ve brought prove with me,” he called after Abbas who already made to turn and walk back into the castle but no stopped without facing Malik. “I’ve brought you something you’ve wished for years ago!”

 

Abbas tuned his head, slowly. He watched Malik over his shoulder, the look in his eyes turning icy. “And what would that be?”

 

Malik swallowed hard, his knees feeling soft and his head light.

 

“Altair’s death,” he said.


	8. Chapter 8

Malik had never really liked the council room not ever since he’s been in their the first time at just eight years old, standing in front of a committee who’d seen if he’s fitting the Order’s standards, healthy and strong enough to become an Assassin. He remembered standing naked in front of the eyes of eight old men, speaking about him as if he wasn’t really there and nothing but a ghost to their presence.

 

_He’s too scraggy._

_He’s too sick._

_He’s too small for his age._

_He won’t survive the first year._

Just the memory of those words set his blood in heat again.

 

\---

 

“Your father brought you here, isn’t it so?”

 

He nodded. He was cold, his nose running and he pulled it up loudly. “And do you know why he brought you here?”

 

Malik looked at the man sitting left from the one who was currently speaking. He was old but not as old as the grandpa’s in his village. His hair was covered by a black hood but he was wearing a beard and while most of it was still black, his hair was already turning as gray as his one eyes, never moving and looking empty. Malik disliked him the most from all of the men looking at him, inspecting him as if he was nothing but some cattle. He looked over his shoulder without turning his body, back to the door where he knew his father was standing behind.

 

“So I can become an Assassin,” Malik answered.

 

It made the men laugh, a low rumble of chuckles followed by a cough or two. “You’re here so we can see if you can become a _novice_.”

 

\---

 

The second time Malik remembered standing in front of The Eight again wasn’t that long ago, but that meeting hasn’t been pleasing as well and just standing in the room in front of the big round table was enough of a weight pressing down his shoulders to make him feel small and naked again, like the one time so many years ago.

 

Right now there was only Abbas sitting there and it disfigured the whole picture of the room. Seeing him sitting there set the whole world wrong and it took great willpower for Malik to offer more than just a snarl at the man. He was flanked by probably two of his best men, standing with high chins behind him, weapons very visible. They were nervous, Malik could tell that – it wasn’t every day you were in the same room with a living legend and while Malik didn’t think of himself so much as a legend anymore, he knew he still held his reputation among the men as he was no other than the King of Swords – even after so many years, even after a dead brother and a lost arm.

 

“Take a seat,” Abbas said and Malik crossed the distance to take place onto the only chair standing in the middle of the room. It had gotten dark outside, curtains were shutting the windows so nobody could see inside, the torches hanging from the walls burning together with the single-layered chandelier above their heads.

 

“You’ve killed Altair,” Abbas said with his lips pulled back to an ugly snarl and Malik could tell, saying just his name burnt Abbas’ tongue.

 

Malik cocked his head to one side, eyes lowered for a moment before he pulled his one remaining hand into his lap, looking at his fingers there. “That is correct,” he said in a small voice, a whisper even and although it was an act it didn’t mean that Malik’s heart wasn’t heavy with fear. Abbas was probably the only man in the world Malik would fear because he’s seen what the man was able to do – there wasn’t enough left for a human heart inside his chest for him to be anything but unreasonable and cruel.

 

“Why?”

 

Malik would have expected him to ask ‘How’ because he was certain Abbas would enjoy hearing in great detail how Altair found death at the hands of his most trusted man.

 

“He came to Jerusalem,” he said while licking his lips and Abbas eyes narrowed, “he told me about what’s happened here,” and he could see how Abbas went tense. He leaned a bit forward in his chair, his fingers rubbing together in front of his eyes nervously. “I could see it in his eyes,” Malik added softly. “The madness there. I’ve only seen it once before…”

 

“What did he tell you happened here?”

 

Malik swallowed hard. He wanted to stay as close as possible to the truth but at the same time, needed to lie as much as possible for Abbas to believe him. It was a thin line he was walking among, one wrong step could send him to his doom.

 

“He told me the Apple was poisoned and that his Brothers did it to him – he said nobody trusted him anymore and that they took his title away.”

 

Abbas nodded. “That’s not enough of a reason for you to kill him.”

 

“No,” Malik agreed carefully, “it’s not. He asked me to allow him to stay for the night. Altair was confused and I think he was dehydrated from the long ride, he seemed to talk nonsense.” He pursed his lips, brows tightly drawn together. “The next day I was out to the market, to stock my supplies. When I came back I found Altair and one of our men.” Malik looked at Abbas, “He killed him.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Samuel,” Malik said. “The reason he told me why he deserved was foolish. Altair killed an innocent, one of our own. We all know what the punishment for that is,” Malik hissed.

 

Abbas nodded but he looked as if he wasn’t really listening and Malik couldn’t shake that feeling off that this conversation wouldn’t decide about his face but that it was already decided without his knowing. “Like you have killed our Brothers.”

 

Malik clenched his teeth, “Their death was necessary for us to live,” he said and sat up straight in his chair.

 

\---

 

“The Mentor’s dead.”

 

Malik nodded, “That is correct, sir.”

 

“Killed by one of his most trusted men?”

 

Malik shook his head, “No sir. Altair lost his rank nine months ago.”

 

“He was a traitor then?”

 

Again he shook his head, “He’s the man our Order needs.”

 

“But he killed the Grandmaster.”

 

Malik met his eyes, “For us to live, he had to die.”

 

\---

 

Abbas nodded. “But it was different then – that’s why you didn’t take him into custody but delivered justice yourself? Without having the council coming together?”

 

“He called me your name,” Malik said. “When he tried throttling me in his sleep.”

 

“He’s always tried to kill me,” Abbas said with a smirk.

 

\---

 

“Altair!”

 

It was a roar collapsing over the castle like an angry tsunami’s wave and everybody who was in its path would rather try to avoid meeting the beast who’d just released the scream.

 

“Altair!”

 

Malik pulled his legs up and shifted further up the roof, “Why is he so angry?” He looked at his friend and wanted to crawl near the top to look down and into the court but was afraid if he did so, somebody would catch the movement and call them out.

 

“It’s none of your business”, he hissed nose still bloody and eye slowly turning blue.

 

“Then why are you hiding here?”

 

\---

 

“You know his body is going to be prepared before The Eight arrive,” Abbas said.

 

Malik nodded at that.

“You know I’ve ordered to remove The Eight from their position?”

 

It felt a bit like a blow to the stomach pushing all the air out of Malik’s lungs. “I don’t understand.”

 

Abbas cocked his head to one side, watching Malik closely and he made a small gesture with two fingers, one of his guard stepping forwards. The floor underneath his feet felt unsteady and if Malik wouldn’t know any better he’d say the walls were closing in on him. “What?”

 

“You didn’t bring Altair with you,” Abbas said. “It’s Samuel.”

 

The guard stepped behind Malik and put his hand down onto his shoulder, heavy and as if he was pushing him right to the ground. “I’d like to have a talk with you Malik. But I think its better we move this conversation down to the dungeons.”

 

 

xxx

 

 

 

Aleppo was hell.

 

It was crowded, hot, and sticky and its people were rude. Altair couldn’t really tell how many times he’s already been kicked at or spit on but he couldn’t back away now and tried making his way through the city to a place where he thought it’d be safe. The streets in front of his eyes weren’t like how he remembered them, buildings were rising high into the clouds – higher than Altair thought it for them to be possible and more than one he run into a dead end. He could see what the future held for Aleppo and so far, it was nothing but a nightmare. He’d be happy if he could just rip out his eyes and not _see_ any more but even if he did, the future wasn’t something Altair could erase like that. The future stood never still and was always moving and Altair had learned that the more he tried to get a hold of it, the tighter he closed his fist around it the more it run through his fingers, the more it changed within just a blink of an eye.

 

“We don’t want your kind here,” the woman said as he stopped in front of the house and by hearing her voice, Altair could tell it was the one he’s been looking for. He was leaning heavily on his cane, hood pulled deep into his face and Altair knew he wasn’t smelling good – he hadn’t washed himself or changed his clothes in a few days and the hair on his cheeks and chin had gotten thick, his beard very obvious by now.

 

“It’s an old friend who you deny access,” he said and rose his chin, the hood falling back to just reveal his eyes. “Charda,” he added.

 

“Altair..?” She spoke his name with care as if each letter could burn her tongue, cut it right off. “Is that you?”

 

“Will you let me in?”

 

The door creaked as it was pushed open and while Altair couldn’t exactly see it, he felt the air moving and took a step inside only to be yanked forward by a small fist curling inside his robes, pulling him in forcefully. “They’ve doubled the guards in the cit,” Charda whispered. “It’s a dangerous business these days,” she added. “Why are you here? I didn’t hear the bells,” she said confused and Altair growled at that – he’d managed to move around the city several times before without triggering the alarm!

 

“I’m waiting for a friend,” he said. “He should arrive in two, maybe three days.”

 

“So it’s shelter you seek? A bed and a warm meal?”

 

He nodded.

 

“It won’t come without a price, Altair.” He could hear the smirk in her voice and he reached out for her hand, grabbing it by the second try and pushed a small pouch into her palm. “Money has never been a problem”, he told her and she leaned in, her lips brushing across his ear.

 

“We both know I wasn’t talking about money.”

 

xxx

 

 

Malik didn’t arrive the next day – and he didn’t come on the fourth and on the fifth day Altair decided he needed to take things into his own hands.

 

“Where are you going?” Charda asked and it was raining today, his boots already soaked wet before he even got to take a step out and into the streets.

 

“I need to go,” was all he said and he felt Charda’s gaze boring into his neck but Malik wasn’t there, hadn’t come and Altair just knew, something must have gone terrible wrong.


End file.
